


A New Tradition

by EdgeLady



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Don't copy to another site, Golden Age, M/M, Overwatch Family, Pre-Fall of Overwatch, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 02:57:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17195201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdgeLady/pseuds/EdgeLady
Summary: Jack Morrison is very excited about a new summer event for Overwatch employees. Gabriel Reyes wants to make him even happier, so he indulges his corny husband.Written for the "They Loved Each Other" fanzine





	A New Tradition

**Author's Note:**

> Look, y'all, the zine didn't let me write smut, so I am telling you the super sweet story behind one of Jack Morrison's best skins in the game, instead! Hope you enjoy! 
> 
> And please go check out the other TLEO entries, they are QUALITY.

 

“Tell me again why we’re doing this in the shadow of your ass?”

When he asks the question, Gabriel Reyes is leaning casually against the giant base of the infamous Strike-Commander Morrison statue. He points above his head at the aforementioned ass, which is hidden by the iconic duster. It’s a crime, really.

The blonde, upon whom the statue’s visage is (loosely) based, looks up from where he is fluttering around the recently delivered industrial grills. His face is flushed with genuine joy and he looks like a kid at Christmas. It was that excitement that had kept Gabriel from groaning when Jack first mentioned what he was planning.

“I mean, why not? This is clearly my best side,” Jack says with a huge grin.

Gabe laughs and pushes off the concrete, heading over to inspect the grills. Individually, they are beasts. Stainless steel, sixty inches across, each with eight individual burners.

“Do I want to know how much these cost? Especially to have them shipped here?”

Gabe looks at Jack. The Strike-Commander is standing between the grills, his spine perfectly straight, broad shoulders thrown back, hands on his hips, and feet shoulder-width apart. His blue duster sways around him in the breeze. Strands of his unruly golden hair have strayed down over his forehead, and there is a thousand-watt smile on his face. He looks like a sea captain, standing tall and proud on the upper deck of a brand new ship. Gabe has the sudden, desperate urge to stride across the ‘deck’ and kiss his gorgeous husband.

He restrains himself and looks away, laughing. “Never mind. As long as you’re happy, Jackie.”

He turns his back on Jack and the grills and the statue, looking out over the gently sloping hillside and the vast expanse of green space. This is the Park, the center of Overwatch HQ, a garden area complete with perfectly-manicured lawns and an array of impressive fountains. It is surrounded by the various buildings that make up the Swiss headquarters. This really is the perfect spot for what Jack is planning. It’s outdoors, it’s open, there are picnic tables, and there is plenty of room. Further down the hill, a few Overwatch employees are having lunch.

That is why he had stopped himself from kissing Jack a moment ago. Their marriage is a secret. He hates that it has to be this way, but he tells himself the upside is that there is a part of Jack Morrison that only he gets to see.

“I _am_ happy, Gabe. This is going to be awesome!” Jack says from behind him.

Gabriel walks back over to where he is bending over one of the grills. “Have fun planning. I leave tomorrow on a mission.”

Jack pouts over his shoulder. “Sure is convenient that you’re leaving right when there’s so much to do to prepare.”

Gabe chuckles. He glances around and starts to walk away. He has agents to brief and packing to do. As he steps past Jack, however, he can’t help but give him a smack on the ass. Jack yelps and jumps up, shooting him a glare.

“Definitely your best side,” Gabe says. “See you tonight?”

Jack’s blue eyes soften and he nods. “Of course.”

Gabe heads back to his office to message his agents, but before he goes to the Blackwatch briefing-room, he does a bit of online shopping, inspired by Jack’s gleeful smile and sparkling eyes.

 

* * *

 

He knows the exact moment his gift is received. He’s crouched on a rooftop in some seedy part of Detroit, a hotspot of criminal activity in a city that has never really recovered from the Crisis. He’s not too worried about his target. He knows McCree and Asano are keeping an eye out from another rooftop and on the ground, so when he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket, he fishes it out. His lips twitch with amusement.

 

 **Ana** : What have you done?

 **Ana:** You’ve created a monster.

This is immediately followed by another message.

 **Blondie** : I LOVE IT I LOVE IT THANK YOU HONEY

 

Later, when he has been relieved by Agent Costas and is back at the abandoned motel where they’ve set up base, he sees that Ana has sent him a photo. It’s Jack in front of his desk, wearing his Strike-Commander uniform, but the infamous duster has been discarded in a crumpled mess on the floor and replaced by a bright-blue apron with the words _Raise The Steaks_ printed across the chest. Gabriel had also ordered a set of heavy-duty grilling tools, all of which Jack has found a home for in the many pockets and loops of the apron.

 

 **Ana** : He says this is going to be his new uniform, fuck the UN. 

Gabriel laughs, earning a curious look from McCree and Asano, who are just settling down on their cots to rest. He types back a response.

 **Papi** : I’m glad you like it. 

It’s very late in Zürich, and yet almost instantly he receives a kissy face emoji, followed by a demand.

 **Blondie** : Call me. I need you.

“I’m going outside to make a call,” he tells his agents. They both smile and ask no questions.

 

* * *

 

It’s not long after that when the entire Blackwatch team in Detroit receives a message on their phones. Gabriel is busy going over the intel on their target when he hears Asano laugh followed by McCree’s, “What the fuck?” 

Gabriel had ignored his phone in favor of finishing what he is doing. It’s ten minutes before he finally gets up, grabbing his phone and heading into the next room, where the other five agents are resting. The Japanese woman sees him first and grins widely as she sits up on her cot.

“Did you see, boss? The message we just got?” she asks.

“Not yet, Asano,” he replies. “Somebody has to work around here.”

He looks at it now and all five of his agents burst into laughter when he visibly grimaces. He immediately brings up a group chat window.

 

 **Papi** : I want a divorce

 **Ana** : You made this bed, now you have to lie in it.

 **Blondie** : You love it! ::kissyface::

 **Ana** : Tell him what you’re planning, Jack

 **Blondie** : I want another one!

 **Papi:** ???

 **Blondie** : Another apron, just like this one. It’s going in the vault for safe keeping, for when this one wears out. I want to wear this when I’m old and grey!

 **Papi:** …

 **Papi:** Jack no!

 **Blondie:** Jack yes!

 **Ana:** What did I tell you about a monster, Gabriel?

 **Papi** : I want a divorce

 

Gabe ignores the huge grins leveled at him by his agents and puts his phone away.  “Let’s go over the intel, so maybe we can get back in time for the Strike-Commander’s party.”

 

* * *

 

The cleanup takes longer than anticipated, and by the time the Blackwatch team makes it back to Zürich, it’s the day of the event. As they walk out of the hangar, they are treated to the sight of the poster that had been sent to their phones weeks ago. Asano bursts out laughing. It’s the Strike-Commander in sunglasses and his blue apron, brandishing tongs at the camera. The caption reads, “I want YOU to attend the First Annual Overwatch Summer Picnic!”

The team debriefs and then disperses to their rooms to change and freshen up. When Gabe emerges into the warm sunshine, he’s not in his normal clothes. He’s wearing jeans, a grey hoodie, and a black t-shirt that says _Bad Boys Wear Black_. The poster did specify that anyone who showed up in uniform would be fired. Casual wear ONLY.

The whole of the Overwatch staff—along with children and other civilian family members—are spread across the Park, seated at tables and on blankets. There is a festive atmosphere and the cool summer breeze is filled with laughter and the tantalizing aromas of meat and veggies cooking. Blackwatch agents are even mingling with Overwatch agents, which is a rare sight.

Gabe can’t help but smile, which earns him a few stares. Nobody seems to know what to make of the cheerful expression on the normally scowling Blackwatch Commander. But he’s smiling because he knows this is what Jack had wanted. A gathering for all his employees and their families, where they could enjoy themselves in ease and camaraderie. And, perhaps most importantly, it’s an excuse to grill. This event will surely become to Jack Morrison what Halloween is to Gabriel Reyes: the best goddamned day of the year

“Well, this party just got three-hundred percent edgier,” Torbjörn calls, as Gabe approaches.

The engineer is sitting with Reinhardt. They are both nursing giant tankards of beer, and neither of them appear to be excessively sober.

“Five-hundred percent,” Gabe growls. “Get it right.”

Torb and Rein roar with laughter and raise their tankards.

“Gabe!” Jack exclaims, from the epicenter of smoky deliciousness.

He spins around, tongs in one hand and grilling fork in the other. His cheeks are flushed and his blue eyes are dancing merrily. It’s the happiest Gabe has seen him in a long time.

Gabe raises his hands, eyes on the tools being brandished in his direction. “I surrender!” 

Jack laughs. “Come on, there’s more food coming out now. I’m putting you to work!”

Gabe groans, but he does have to compliment the chef. Jack certainly knows his way around a grill. Rein and Torb are too smashed to be useful, so he ends up helping Ana carry platters of food to the serving tables. Overwatch staff converge on them, thanking the command team for putting this together. It takes a while before he and Ana are able to extract themselves and head back up the hill. As they do so, Gabe looks up. His breath hitches and his steps falter.

Jack is standing at the top of the hill, arms crossed on his chest, cheeks flushed, blue eyes sweeping over the grounds. Gabe is struck by how beautiful and noble his husband looks in that moment, standing tall and proud, surveying his kingdom. _Their_ kingdom.

“I’ve got you covered,” Ana says. Gabe looks at her and she nods. “Everyone is down there. I’ll watch your back.”

“You’re the fucking best.”

“And you’re babysitting Fareeha next time I need you to.”

“Deal.”

Gabe strides up the hill past Jack and murmurs in his ear, “How about a break, Grillmaster?”

He keeps walking around the statue, not looking back to see if Jack is following. He doesn’t have to. He knows his husband has been drawn along, even as he sputters protests about being careful and what if they are seen. He has always had trouble breaking away from Gabriel Reyes’ orbit. Following Gabe is as natural to him as breathing.

Jack rounds the corner of the statue’s base and is yanked into Gabe’s arms. His protests die under the onslaught of eager kisses and he melts into the embrace, allowing himself to be pressed back against the concrete. They kiss each other with the hunger of the starving; with the desperation of the thirsty. When they are finally forced to come up for air, they stand there gasping, forehead to forehead.

“This is a good event,” Gabe says at last.

Jack smiles tenderly. “You made it even better.”

Gabe grins and plucks at the bright blue apron. “Well, I saw this damn thing and figured—”

“I love it, but that’s not it.” Jack wraps his arms around Gabe’s neck. “You made it better by supporting me, even when you thought it was silly. You made it better by being here.”

Warmth blossoms in Gabe’s cheeks. He knows his dark skin is flushing and that Jack can see it.

“Morrison, you’re such a sap,” he murmurs.

“And you, Reyes, are a giant softie.”

“Shut the fuck up. That’s classified.” He chuckles when Jack rolls his eyes. After a moment, he frowns. “We’re doing this damn picnic thing every year now, aren’t we?”

“You’re goddamned right we are. This is now an Overwatch tradition. History has been made today!”

Gabriel heaves a long-suffering sigh, but he can’t be too terribly upset, especially when Jack pulls him in for another kiss, this one softer and sweeter.

Maybe this isn’t such a bad tradition, after all.


End file.
